


The Man Underneath

by calie15



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:30:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1976109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calie15/pseuds/calie15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma doesn't trust Bucky Barnes, until she sees the man underneath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jemma didn’t like dealing with new people. She had her work family, that was enough. Jemma didn’t want to be thrown into missions with people she didn’t know. At the very lease she was grateful for having been sent on this new mission with Fitz. They stayed together, like good scientist did when thrown in a group of field agents. 

The root of her troubles, of Fitz’s, was their distrust of people. Jemma tried to remind herself that everyone in SHIELD had been betrayed by someone who worked for HYDRA. They all had reasons to distrust. Not everyone had been locked in a small box and dropped under water though.

Even more troubling was the former HYDRA operative that she was unluckily enough to be in proximity with. Jemma tried to call him Bucky Barnes in her head in hopes of remembering the smiling face in her history books. It didn’t work.

Instead she saw a cold, miserable person. They said he was rehabilitated, but she had some doubt. He looked like he wanted to kill someone every time she saw him, and Fitz had agreed. They had discussed it at length behind closed door.

Jemma wished that Bucky Barnes wasn’t even there. He scared the bloody hell out of her. 

She wasn’t glad he was there until they actually needed him.

Sitting on the ground Jemma looked over at Fitz, her face pleading. “Go!” Jemma screamed at him, and even then he didn’t concern clear on his face. “Please Fitz. Neither of us will survive if you don’t. At least if go maybe we can get some help. Please.”

Her friend reluctantly left, his face strained with regret. Jemma offered him a hopeful smile and then he ran.

Minutes went by where she sat there, alone in the setting sun.

Then she heart a click at her side. With a gasp she looked up to see a gun pointed at her. 

“Shoot her.”

Jemma wanted to beg, but the words wouldn't leave her mouth. Then there was a shot fired and she winced, ready for it, butothing happened. Then another shot. When she looked up two bodies had fallen to the ground. The remaining man had turned, pulling out his gun, but it was knocked to the side. The fight was short lived. Jemma barely got a glimpse of the black figure until it was still. Jemma gasped as she caught sight of Bucky Barnes embedding a knife into the man’s chest. It made a sickening sound as he pulled it out. The man fell to the ground and Bucky bent over, wiping his knife on the man’s clothes.

Then he looked at her. He’d saved her life, and she should have been grateful, but instead she just wanted to run. She’d been shot in the leg though, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’ve found her,” Bucky said stonily into his com, stood, and came forward.

Jemma clamped down on her need to pull away as he stepped closer. When he kneeled next her side and looked over her body she still kept it together. His eyes stopped on the makeshift bandage on her thigh, her sweater.

He reached forward and this time she did jerk away. He stopped.

Blue eyes looked back up at her, still as hard as ever. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Jemma only nodded. Then he reached down and untied the sweater. When he lifted his knife to her leg she swallowed.

“I’m going to cut your pants,” he said without looking up.

“Okay,” she whispered, and he glanced up at her briefly, then down again. Jemma watched as he sliced a hole in her pants. She looked away then. Gross things didn’t bother Jemma, gross things on her own body did. The material tore, but nothing happened. She looked over to see him yanking away the glove on his right hand. When he dropped it to the ground and reached for her leg she didn’t pull away

As he touched the wound she winced, but said nothing, biting her lips instead to fight the pain.

“The bleeding stopped, but the bullet is still lodged in your leg. We need to get you back.”

Jemma knew most of that already, but it was a relief to know that the bleeding had slowed. He tied the sweater around her leg again, and as he pulled the knot tighter she inhaled sharply. He looked up at her, but said nothing. 

There was no conversation as Bucky Barnes pulled his glove back on and stood. He looked around, wincing slightly in the setting sun, and put away his knife. Then his eyes were on her again and Jemma found she was really uncomfortable any time he looked down at her. 

He squatted to the ground and when he slid a hand around her back she tensed again.

“Put your arm around my shoulder.”

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. He was not carrying her back. “I’m sure this isn't necessary.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and it seemed so out of place that she faltered. “I mean, I…” She had nothing though. With a sigh, to tired to fight, Jemma complied. He slid another leg beneath her knees and when he stood pain shot through her thigh. Again she bit her lip to muffle the whimper. He said nothing.

“By my calculations. We’re 2 miles out,” Jemma said shakily as he began to walk. “We won’t be back before dark.” Her hands were shaking. Shock, it was just shock. “Maybe not. I’m not sure. I don’t have enough information on you to factor in your physical enhancements. We may potentially be back before the sun set. If I know the speed you were capable of, factoring in my weight-.”

“Do you always talk this much?”

His question snapped her out of her panic. “No, yes, maybe sometimes. It depends on the scenario. I’ve never been shot. But I have a history of thinking out loud at a fast pace, normally under duress.” She was doing it again. “Sorry, I-I. I think it’s shock.” He readjusted her body, lifting her higher, arms tightening just slightly. Jemma kept her mouth closed after that. 

The last thought she had was how embarrassing it was that she passed out with her head on his shoulder. 

When she woke up she was on a hospital bed.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later she found herself back in the lab. The door opened and she looked up, expecting anyone but the man who walked in.

There stood Bucky Barnes, looking around unsurely at his surroundings. He looked less intimidating in jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was neatly pushed behind his ears, and Jemma would even go so far as to say he looked attractive. His cybernetic arm made it hard to forget who he was though. And she’d seen him kill, he was dangerous. When he looked back at her his eyes flickered down and she wondered if he was looking at her leg. “Hi,” she said hesitantly.

He stared for a moment. “How’s the leg?”

Their conversation was probably the worst of all time. Jemma gaped for a moment then spoke. “Oh, its fine, thank you.” It gave her an opening though. “I’m glad you’re here. I meant to say thank you back there. I was slightly scattered brained at the moment. If you hadn’t come along..."

He shook his head. "It's fine," he said quickly.

For a moment Jemma felt the burden of needing to respond, but he opened his mouth as if he had more to say then closed it and winced. To her it seemed as if he had more to say, but was struggling. 

"I'm glad you're okay," he said finally.

It finally hit her, he was nervous. Immediately Jemma felt guilty for her stand offish attitude and judgement of him. She was a smart girl, she knew his terrible past, she should have known better. She'd let past experiences and fear guide her. At that moment she resolved to give him the chance he deserved. "Thanks," she responded with a bright smile. "It's healing well enough. At least I have my very own gun shot wound to brag about. First time being shot and all."

He opened his mouth, but the door was thrown open and there stood Fitz, looking very confused. 

"I'll see you later," he said, a little coldly, and turned to leave. 

"Bye!" She called after him to excitedly. He seemed to falter in his step, but then he kept going.

"What was that about?" Fitz asked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the same scene as the first chapter, but from Bucky's POV.

Bucky despised working with other people. Decades ago he worked well in a group. He had been a friendly person, he had friends, girlfriends. Everyone liked him. During the war, he got along well with everyone. After though…

He was his own army. Bucky was good enough that he didn’t need anyone else. It wasn’t his ego, it was the truth. As he surveyed the men and women on the team he had been assigned to he knew without a doubt none of them were up to par with him.

Not to mention that he just didn’t like people. He wasn’t a people person anymore, at all. In so many words his SHIELD therapist told him he was anti-social. That was fine with him.

The good thing was that people knew that. They knew he wasn’t friendly, and most of all they probably didn’t like him either. He represented what HYDRA had been, and no one wanted that reminder. He didn’t hold it against anyone, mostly because it kept people away.

Also, he was pretty sure he frightened most people. That worked for him too.

So as they were transported he was able to keep to himself. He read. It got him a strange look once in a while, he assumed people probably thought he couldn’t read, or had any interest in it. Bucky had seventy years to catch up on. And on Steve’s recommendation he kept a list of the things that he had questions about. It was sad really, but necessary.

The reading kept him busy when there was nothing else of interest around him. Sure, he did his usual survey of the area. He was constantly preparing for battle, no matter where he was or who he was with. He was always looking for danger. There was none, not yet.

For the most part the people on the team weren’t interesting in the least. One thing that made this missions stick out from the others were the two scientist, which he noted had an annoying ability to talk animatedly about things that he was pretty sure no one understand. 

They also seemed to be good at getting themselves in trouble.

Things had gone wrong, as they tend to do and the search party was out for them and from what he gathered they weren’t to leave until the two were found. Something along the lines of vital to SHIELD and Coulson would be furious. Bucky didn’t care why, he had orders to find them, and that’s what he did.

It wasn’t that hard to zero in on their location. He found the man first, running back towards the camp. He was out of breath and distressed, but Bucky caught the gist of it. The woman had been shot.

Bucky sent him on his way, notifying the other agents to meet him, and quickened his pace.

It was luck that he found the woman when a gun was pointed at her head. 

Bucky didn’t mind killing, but the return of his memories had also made him disgusted with himself. The number of lives he had taken without caring, the number of innocent people…Bucky despised himself for it. So he wasn’t overly fond of killing innocent people, or allowing others to do it, and Bucky was pretty sure the frightened woman on the ground hadn’t hurt a thing in her life.

He fired off two shots and knocked the weapon out of the third’s hand. The man’s hand to hand combat left a lot to be desired and it was almost satisfying to bury his knife into his chest. He should have just shot him though, now there was blood.

He turned and looked down at her. She seemed fine enough. “I’ve found her,” he relayed over the com. Bucky walked towards the woman and kneeled at her side. After a quick survey of her body he landed on her thigh and the clothing tied around it. Before he even moved her he needed to see the damage. She was alert enough, which led him to believe she wasn’t in any immediate damage. 

When he reached forward she flinched, and he stopped. Bucky had always preferred people to be a bit frightened of him, but he was taken aback for a moment. Keeping people away was okay, but she clearly didn’t even want him near her, even if it was to offer her help. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. She nodded, but said nothing.

Bucky grasped the material and untied it gently. The pants were soaked in blood and the hole was small. “I’m going to cut your pants,” he explained.

“Okay,” she whispered softly.

At the sound of her voice he looked up. It was different then he remembered, softer. Bucky actually preferred the eagerness he had seen the past couple of days to what he saw now.

Shaking off those thoughts he went to work, cutting the material away gently, then tearing it. At some point she had looked away. Before even moving to inspect the wound he tugged off his glove. He gently wiped the blood away with the cloth he had removed from her leg and inspected the wound

Bucky could see her visibly tense, hear her breath become slightly ragged, and when he glanced up under his lashes she was biting her lip. A quick inspection beneath her thigh told him what he need to know. “The bleeding stopped, but the bullet is still lodged in your leg. We need to get you back.”

Grabbing the cloth again he tied it around her leg, regretting that he had to tighten the knot. She inhaled sharply, and he looked up, meeting her eyes, but that was it.

Standing, Bucky glanced around, determining easily enough that there was no help within the area. Everyone else had gone in another direction, but he had known better, he was better. He didn’t have time to wait though, she needed help, and the sun was going down.

Kneeling down again he slid an arm around her back. “Put your arm around my shoulders.”

“I’m sure this isn’t necessary.”

Bucky looked at her, wondering if she could really be serious. She was shot in the leg, how the hell did she think she would get back.

“I mean, I…” She began and winced, then finally sighed and relented.

Bucky waited until her arm was around him and then slid his other arm beneath her knees and lifted her slowly, trying to be careful of her leg. Hurting her couldn’t be helped though. She whimpered and he couldn’t help regretting have to cause her pain, even if it was to help her.

“By my calculations. We’re 2 miles out. We won’t be back before dark.” 

Bucky looked down at her as he begun to walk. She wasn’t looking at him, instead staring off in the distance.

“Maybe not. I’m not sure. I don’t have enough information on you to factor in your physical enhancements. We may potentially be back before the sun sets. If I know the speed you were capable of, factoring in my weight-.”

Considering how quiet she had been almost moments ago he was slightly surprised at the change in her. While he thought he might prefer her liveliness to the quiet, hurt women, he was pretty sure this rattling was something else. “Do you always talk this much?” His question was harsh and for a moment he wondered if she might take offense.

“No, yes, maybe sometimes. It depends on the scenario. I’ve never been shot. But I have a history of thinking out loud at a fast pace, normally under duress. Sorry, I-I. I think it’s shock,” she finished finally, her voice shaking slightly. 

Once she said it, Bucky was sure she was right. Her body shuddered here and there, her hand on his shoulder shook, and her teeth chattered slightly. Again, he found himself troubled by her situation. He readjusted her body slightly, lifting her higher, and tightened his arms to hold her closer. 

Moments later her eyes drooped and her head tipped slowly to the side, settling on his shoulder. Part of him was relieved, the woman likely needed sleep. Another part of him was just glad he wouldn't have to interact with her any longer. As his doctor said, he was anti-social.

Except he was startled to realize he also took issue with physical proximity as well, because he wasn’t in the least comfortable with this situation. It was too intimate. There was nothing that could be done, so he suffered through it. Keeping his eyes on his destination, his eyes straying down to her face more times then he could count.  
~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the days that followed Bucky had thought back to the woman more then he should have. 

After two days he made an inquiry into her health. The prognoses was good, as he expected it to be, but it still made him feel better to know that. After that he told himself it was enough, that knowing was all that mattered. 

On the third day he cursed himself for his curiosity and found out exactly who she was. Jemma Simmons, a SHIELD biochemist. 

Tracking her down and finding when she returned to work was easy.

That’s how he found himself in one of the SHIELD labs staring awkwardly around. He knew weapons, he was comfortable with that, not with this.

When their eyes met the awkwardness only doubled. He glanced down at her leg without thinking and then back up again.

“Hi,” she said gently.

His doctor was right, he needed to work on his social skills. “How’s the leg?”

Jemma looked at him for a moment, but it felt like hours. “Oh, it’s fine, thanks,” she said and paused. “I’m glad you’re here. I meant to say thank you back there. I was slightly scattered brained at the moment. If you hadn’t come along…"

That was something Bucky realized he wasn’t comfortable either, someone thanking him. He’d done enough bad things in his life that he was pretty sure no one should be thanking him for anything. He shook his head quickly to brush off her gratitude. “It’s fine.” 

Then they stood there. Bucky had seen her, reassured himself that she was indeed okay, that should have been it, but it wasn’t. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said finally. Again cursing how awkward and stupid he sounded. It had never been like this for him. Maybe he couldn’t remember everything before the war, but he had known how to talk to woman. The conversation he was having was pitiful.

Then she smiled.

"Thanks," she responded. "It's healing well enough. At least I have my very own gun shot wound to brag about. First time being shot and all.”

It was the smile that made him unable to just turn and leave. It reached her eyes and he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever smiled at him. Not even sure what to say he opened his mouth to speak.

Then the door opened and the spell was broken. He looked to see the other scientist standing there, clearly confused. That was okay, Bucky was confused too. He turned back to Jemma. “I’ll see you later.”

Then he was gone, walking to the door, wishing he could run to it.

“Bye!” She called behind him.

Bucky faltered, because he wanted to turn around. He wanted to see the face that went with that bright tone. Five days ago she’d been scared of him. He wasn’t sure what had changed.

He kept going through, refusing to look back. It may have been nothing. When he told the therapist she smiled, and told him that was a good first step.


End file.
